"It started as a whisper of sickness,"
Kaelith went on, his voice dropping further, each word a confession wrung from him.
"At first, only a handful of cases, mostly among the mages who carried the greatest reservoirs of mana. But within months, it spread like fire through dry grass. The brightest minds of Airevein… Father, worked themselves hollow, even reaching out to other realms for answers. Nothing."
His fist struck the bark of the tree, startling a flock of birds into the air.
"She's the strongest woman I've ever known reduced to gasping for air like a child drowning on land, every breath could be her last and it kills me to know that I can't do anything about it, Father doesn't even leave his lab now, trusting me to take care of official duties."
Labella shifted closer, hesitating before placing a hand over his. She had never seen him like this. Not Lith, the boy who always laughed, who carried himself with the unshakable pride of the Veythros blood. Now he was raw, his strength peeling away to reveal a son who could not protect his mother.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her own heart aching.
For a long time, Kaelith did not respond. The wind rustled through the branches, carrying with it the scent of jasmine and the memory of summer's past. Finally, his voice returned, softer now, though heavy with a vow that chilled her.
"If no cure exists in this world or the next… then I'll make one. Or I'll tear apart the heavens themselves until I do."
The vow lingered between them, terrible and resolute, as the forest lord's stag-call echoed in the distance like an omen.
Abella squeezed his hand, her expression softening as a spark of determination lit her eyes.
"Come with me," she said gently, standing and brushing the moss from her dress. "There may be… something. A chance."
Kaelith looked at her, skeptical but desperate enough to follow, rising without a word. She led him deeper into the forest, past roots as wide as walls and branches thick as towers.
The light grew dimmer the further they went, the canopy overhead weaving shadows into the undergrowth, they had been walking for a few hours as well so it was now getting dark. Yet Abella moved with purpose, every step sure, as if she had walked this path a hundred times before.
After a long silence, she finally spoke. "While I was away, my brother Eloren you remember him, yes?"
Kaelith nodded faintly. "I haven't heard that name in years. Last I heard of him he was in Cadia, though he never answered any of my letters. He was a botanist right? Father used to say he was too curious for his own good."
A small smile ghosted her lips. "Still is. But his curiosity has always been his greatest gift. While we were gone, he devoted himself to something in secret. He studied jasmine grass not just as food or medicine, but as a foundation."
"He believes it is the most versatile plant in the universe. Its fibers can soothe wounds, its roots purify water, its leaves adapt to flavor. There's even a legend that the plant originated from a fallen god. He thought… maybe, if he could alter it, coax it into something new, it might even counter this disease."
Kaelith's golden eyes sharpened. "An experimental plant?"
Abella nodded. "A hybrid of jasmine grass, originally the grass only grew on a planet called Oreath but the planet had gone through a great disaster and just starting to rebuild, their society seems to still be quite primitive, he visits under a new identity each time, they seem the type of people to go into a panic if the greater cosmos ever revealed itself to them, even worse there was no sign of the plant on that planet anymore."
"After a while he was able to track down a sample through a friend that deals in alien botany and planted it here, even spreading it to other planets, its amazing how he was able to make the plant a regular part of our ecosystem in only two hundred years, it normally takes a few millenia…. Sorry im getting off track, anyway, this is his own personally cultivated strain. He calls it Aureas Jasmine. It's rare, still fragile, but he swears it carries properties no other plant has. Purifying, strengthening… it even glows faintly at night, as if it breathes light."
They emerged into a small glade, where moonlight filtered through the trees. At its center was a patch of silver-vined grass, its blades shimmering faintly with a golden hue, with small clumps of blue buds. The air around it was cooler, fresher, and Kaelith realized he was breathing deeper just standing near it.
Abella crouched by the glowing plants, her fingers brushing over their soft edges with reverence.
"Eloren thought it might work against the blight… but he never had a chance to test it. Too dangerous, he said. Too unproven. But if there's even a chance."
Kaelith dropped to one knee beside her, staring at the shimmering grass, his heart pounding. For the first time in weeks, hope clawed its way through the despair. He clenched his jaw, his golden eyes burning with resolve.
"Then we test it."
Abella met his gaze, her hand still on the glowing grass. Her aquamarine eyes softened with both fear and faith.
"Together, Lith. Always."
From the shadows above, a sharp voice cut through the quiet of the grove.
"You know, normally people knock before entering someone's home."
Kaelith's head snapped up, golden eyes narrowing, his body tense as his hand hovered near the dagger on his belt. Abella, however, only sighed. "Eloren," she muttered, glancing at the trees.
Her older brother emerged from the branches with effortless grace, his robes marked with soil and pollen stains, the faint glow of enchantments pulsing faintly across his sleeves. His hair styled into short dreadlocks and dyed red resembling fire as it flowed behind him.
He looked every bit the botanist who had spent more time among roots and herbs than people. His aquamarine eyes, however, were hard, fixed on Kaelith with quiet disapproval.
He stepped forward, voice sharp. "These plants aren't ready. They're unstable. Dangerous if handled incorrectly, you could have literally blown up my house if you so much had breathed on it wrong."
Kaelith opened his mouth to speak, but Eloren silenced him with a raised hand. "But…" He pulled a small pouch from his satchel, loosening the drawstring. At once, faint motes of silver light drifted upward, like starlight coming alive. "I brought something that could change that."
"Skydust?" Abella whispered.
Eloren nodded. "Scraped from one of the Skyblades that fell near the northern ridges. Their energy nourishes everything they touch. I thought… Maybe it could stabilize the Aureas Jasmine's wild mana."
"If the plant's energy ever clashed with another strong energy source, like the magic core of a forest speaker and a divine beast, a garden of this size would have very much been enough to have blown up a good portion of this forest. Even I have to lower my power just to touch it, luckily sis you have the blessing of the forest, that's the only reason it didn't blow up when you touched it."
Abella and Kaelith looked away with visible embarrassment.
He knelt and sprinkled the dust over the plants, while making plans of putting the plants in a locked room after.
At once the silver vines quivered, their glow faltering before shifting entirely. The leaves curled inward, pulsing faintly as if holding their breath. Then a wave of energy rippled outward, shaking the air itself. What had been slender silver grass was now transformed thick violet buds glittering faintly with pinpricks of starlight. The air grew rich, soothing, Kaelith's lungs felt clearer.
Abella's lips parted in awe. "Eloren…"
Her brother plucked a bud carefully, grinding it down between his fingers before wrapping it in treated bark. He lit the end with a flick of fire magic, inhaling deeply. Smoke curled upward, violet-tinted in the moonlight.
The change was almost instant. His posture relaxed, his breaths deepened, the faint rasp in his lungs vanishing. He exhaled slowly, eyes hazy with both calm and certainty.
"Holy Assiah this could actually work..."
Kaelith stepped closer, golden eyes fixed on him. "How much?"
Eloren shook his head. "This isn't an instant cure, but it is a cure. With steady, continuous use, her symptoms should vanish, and in time… so will the disease itself. What she needs is consistency."
He fixed Kaelith with a calculating look. "You'll have her smoke one of these every day, I'll teach you how to roll one later. Record everything her breathing, her strength, how quickly she recovers. I need data before I consider mass production."
For a moment, the weight of those words sank in.
Abella placed her hand over Kaelith's. "What are you waiting for? Go to her!."
Kaelith clenched his fists, swallowing hard against the swell of emotion rising in his chest. For years, he had watched his mother struggle, the strongest woman he knew brought low by an illness no one could name, much less cure. And now here, in the heart of the elven forest hope bloomed violet before his eyes.
Eloren exhaled another curl of smoke, glancing up at the stars shimmering faintly beyond the treetops. "If this works for your mother, it could save thousands. But I won't gamble with lives on untested work. You'll be my proof, Lith. Prove it works. Then… I'll unleash it on the world."
Eloren let the violet smoke curl from his lips, thoughtful as he stared at Kaelith. Then, wordlessly, he reached into his satchel again. From within he pulled a roll of parchment, along with a small box with rolling papers for the medicine, a vial of quick-drying ink, and a slender stylus of carved jade.
He crouched against the roots of the great tree, his movements brisk but meticulous as he began to write. The stylus glided over the parchment with precision, each rune and line glowing faintly as it dried. Abella leaned over his shoulder, watching the words take shape.
She caught enough to understand: the plant's properties, its instability before the addition of stardust, and the method of preparation for medicinal use. Everything Kaelith would need to explain it to someone who might not trust the word of a boy in desperation.
When he finished, Eloren pressed his family's seal into a block of wax at the bottom of the letter, the mark of the elven house of Seravelle renowned across worlds for their botanical breakthroughs. The wax glowed briefly before cooling, binding the letter with an irrefutable authenticity.
He folded it carefully and handed it to Kaelith. "For your father."
Kaelith accepted it with both hands, staring at the seal with a reverence usually reserved for holy relics.
Eloren's voice softened, though his eyes remained steady. "He'll know my name. And he'll know that if I've written this, it's no whim or foolishness. That letter validates you to bring the cure to her. If anyone questions you, this is the proof he'll need."
Kaelith swallowed, his throat tight. "Thank you, I don't know how i could repay you..."
Eloren exhaled slowly, tapping the violet bud still smoldering faintly in his other hand.
"No one should suffer like that, Lith. Not your mother. Not anyone. But understand this, she'll be my first test subject. I need you to observe her recovery, and write back every day. If this is to become a true cure for the people, I need certainty, not hope."
Abella slipped her arm through Kaelith's, sensing the storm of emotions behind his silence. She spoke gently for him: "We'll do it. I'll make sure of it."
Eloren nodded once, slipping the rest of the herb into a small, warded pouch. He pressed it into Kaelith's hands along with the letter.
"Go, then. And pray the stars are kinder to her than they have been to the rest."
Eloren gave Kaelith the pouch and the letter, his expression unreadable now, though there was the faintest shadow of exhaustion pulling at his eyes. With a stretch of his long limbs, he turned toward his secluded home nestled deep within the roots of the forest.
"I need rest," he muttered, already stepping into the doorway.
The dim glow of ward-lanterns pulling him in. "Two days, Lith, collect as much data as you can and meet me back here at dusk."
Abella squeezed Kaelith's hand before pulling away, her eyes soft but firm.
"I'll see you soon, Lith, I have some things to take care of as well so I'll head home first but remember, two days."
She offered a faint smile before turning down her own path, vanishing into the pale light filtering between the branches of her ancestral woods.
Left alone in the clearing, Kaelith clenched the sealed letter tightly in his hand. His pulse thrummed with purpose. He took one long breath and let his human form unravel.
Shadows rippled over his body, his frame sinking and reforming until a sleek black panther stood in his place. Golden markings flared along his body like living brands, and the air shimmered with the flames that burned softly around him.
His golden eyes narrowed, and in the next instant he was gone, a streak of night racing through the underbrush, weaving past trees and leaping over streams as he sped toward home.
Behind him. The forest grew quiet, save for the hum of crickets and the pulse of the newly-born plants.
Eloren pushed open the door to his secluded house and stepped inside, closing it with a soft thud. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the pouch of stardust he had emptied and the faint shimmer still clinging to his fingers. Then his lips broke into a wide grin.
"Hah!" He laughed aloud, spinning once in the middle of the room. "If this works, I'll be the most sought-after botanist in Airevein no, in all the realms!"
His laughter grew manic as he twirled again, grabbing a half-empty vial off the shelf and raising it like a goblet in triumph. "Fortune, recognition, power! All because I, Eloren Seravelle made the impossible bloom!"
He danced across the floor, robes swirling, his steps echoing like a child celebrating a victory. He tapped jars, shuffled parchments, even bowed mockingly toward a row of failed experiments.
"You thought you'd best me, didn't you? But the cure will be mine, and with it gold enough to drown in!"
The laughter finally slowed, tapering into heavy breaths. Eloren dropped into his chair, his smile lingering but fading around the edges. His eyes grew distant, almost haunted, as his fingers drummed nervously against the table.
"…and I'll need that gold," he muttered under his breath. "Every coin, every ounce of influence."
His gaze shifted to the window, where the glow of the violet plants pulsed steadily in the dark. His voice dipped lower, almost a whisper.
"I'll need it to prepare… for him."
The room went still again. Only the violet light flickered, throwing long, sharp shadows across his face as Eloren leaned back, smile gone, expression tight with anticipation.